The Sandler Inquiry Part 8

"But I think with old Victoria dead he's ready to tell me about the Sandler family."

"Are you going up to Ma.s.sachusetts to see him?" she inquired.

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms in front of him.

"It would be intriguing," he said.

"But no. I won't. It doesn't matter enough. I'm ending my involvement with this once-corrupt firm here and now."

"What's that mean?" she asked.

"Remember I told you I was thinking of closing the office?"

"Yes " she said.

I'm not' about it. I'm doing it. I'm closing this office on Friday and I'm getting out of law."

There was a silence as she weighed his words.

"I don't believe you" she said.

"You'll come back to it. It's . . . it's in your blood : " "No' he said, shaking his head in resignation.

"If I don't do it now, I'll never do it. I'm broke. The office is bankrupt. All the past has been burned gloriously away."

He looked out the dark window at the empty office building across the street, a building much like the one he was in. The lights were off across the street. But the offices waited for their workers the following morning. And the morning after that and every morning thereafter.

"I'm thirty-three," he said.

"I figure I have half of my life ahead of me. I'm not going to spend it in this office. I'm not going to grow old and die doing something I hate and something I'm not that good at."

"What will you do?" she asked.

He held his hands apart, as if in wonder.

"All I know is what I won? do " He moved back to his -desk and sat down. He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back.

"I'd love to solve a mystery," he said.

"And I'd love to play amateur sleuth. But nothing here matters enough anymore. Everything was my father's, not mine" "I, He glanced in the direction of the charred filing cabinets. in closing the doors" he said.

"And you know what? I'm not unhappy about it."

Chapter 4

It was well past four o'clock on Friday afternoon. The young woman in the camel's-hair overcoat tried the front door to the Zenger and Daniels offices. The door was locked.

She looked at the dark walnut door. She knocked again at the door and tried the k.n.o.b. Again, no response. The door was unyielding. Yet she knew she was in the proper place-she could smell the stale odor imparted days ago by the smoke. Besides, the newspapers had mentioned Zenger and Daniels and that was the name on the door.

She noticed a doorbell to the left of the entrance, a feature of an older New York office building. She pressed it. Several seconds pa.s.sed. She was just about to turn to leave when the door abruptly opened and a man spoke.

"Yes?"

She was almost startled. The man before her wore no tie. His hands were dirty, his hair disheveled, and his sleeves rolled beyond the elbows. His clothing suggested maintenance rather than the practice of law.

"I wasn't sure anyone was in" she said.

"I ... I don't have an appointment but I wanted to see someone' "Anyone in particular?" he asked.

She glanced at the names on the door.

"William Ward Daniels,"

she said.

"If he's available."

He smiled slightly.

"You're a bit late for him, he said.

"He died a year ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. She seemed taken aback, searching for the next words but not finding them immediately.

"I'm his son," said Thomas.

"Maybe I can help you She thought for a moment.

"Perhaps you can'" she said. She looked him up and down, wondering what to make of his attire. It was the last Friday in January. Thomas had been packing what was salvageable in cartons and storage crates. On Monday the landlord would be bringing in construction men to rebuild the entire suite.

After today, the offices would be made habitable for new tenants.

Zenger and Daniels would exist only as a memory.

Thomas looked at himself and suddenly realized her apprehension.

"I've, uh, been moving things. Don't mind my appearance.

What did you want to see my father about?"

"Could we discuss it inside?" she asked. She hesitated again, then added,

"I understand your office had something to do with the Sandler estate."

He looked at her carefully, almost in disbelief She was well-spoken, nicely dressed, and she possessed a face that might brighten a magazine cover.